Ignited
by xSummonerYunax
Summary: During the Mansion Incident, Chris is locked up in the mansion's cell. There could only be one man responsible for this.


A/N: This takes place during Jill's game.

Ignited

---

There were two figures in the dimly lit cell. Albert Wesker stood by the corner, an amused grin upon his lips as he watched the other man on the small cot slowly regaining conscious. As he recalled how easy it had been to knock out one of his best men on the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team, he inwardly chuckled. But of course, he had to take in account that Chris had been deeply wounded before he was struck in the back of his head with the rear of a shotgun, his shotgun. Wesker lightly stroked the surface of the weapon that was securely tucked in the holster. He could have easily just pulled the trigger on the oblivious Chris, but where was the fun in that? Even though Wesker knew he was quite evil to the bone, he was still a soldier who followed proper fighting decorum. Attacking another solider from behind when he was defenseless was cowardly and tasteless in his eyes.

Chris, you deserve a more honorable death than that…and I know just the right death to give you.

In a matter of an hour or so, he would unleash the Tyrant within the mansion, and that would no doubt eliminate all the remaining S.T.A.R.S. With S.T.A.R.S. out of the way, there would be no one to expose the horrific truth behind Umbrella's experimentations—the experimentations of biological weapons. Of course, he could care less about Umbrella's well being. No, Wesker had his own plans, far greater plans than Umbrella.

"Ugh…" Chris muttered with shallow breaths as he attempted to sit up. His eyes were still partially closed, and he found it difficult for them to adjust to the light even though the room was rather dark. "Rebecca…?" he whispered, expecting to find the young medic by his side. From what he gathered through his sense of touch, he was lying on a cot that was similar to the one in the medicine room he had found Rebecca in. Did he pass out? He tried to remember what happened, but only recalled that he had been in a long hallway shooting at those…zombies, and then everything around him went black. Was he attacked? Touching the back of his head, he was alarmed to find that his hand felt something sticky among his thick, brown hair.

_Blood? Am I bleeding? What the hell happened?_

"Rebecca?" he called out again, forcing his eyes to adjust to the light no matter how painful it was. He needed to find out what was going on.

"I'm afraid Rebecca isn't here," Wesker scoffed, almost in disbelief that Chris was taking his sweet time to register everything in his head. He hadn't attacked him _that_ hard. He walked across the room, to the foot of the bed and placed a leg on the cot. Bending forward on his knee, he examined the man before him carefully. Chris had many cuts and bruises on his face and exposed skin, some of them looked as if they would leave an infection if they were not cleansed soon.

"Captain Wesker!" Chris's dark eyes snapped open upon hearing the deep voice. Although he was still in great pain and his head was still throbbing, he couldn't bear to show his weakness in front of his leader. He was just cocky like that.

"I'm glad to see that you're awake, Chris…" Wesker replied with a hint of disgust in his voice.

Chris caught on to Wesker's tone of dissatisfaction and immediately straightened himself. He looked at his leader, and was unsure of what to make of his stoic expression. Wesker was always difficult to read with his black shades shielding his eyes, eyes that Chris couldn't recall ever seeing. "How did we get here?" Chris asked, hoping that by stating the most obvious question, Wesker would momentarily forget about his display of fragility. Chris looked around the room. They were in a small, dank cell with only a cot that he was sitting on and a small toilet on the opposite side of him. Thankfully, the place didn't reek of decaying matter. He remembered the horrid stench of death whenever he was near one of those creatures-- creatures that he thought had only existed in fiction books.

"You passed out," Wesker stated simply, a tiny smile spreading across his thin lips. "I found you in the hall and brought here you for…safety."

"T-thanks for your help, Captain," Chris replied slowly, getting the sense that there was something else going on. He couldn't explain the sudden, tense, cold feeling sweeping through him, his intuition telling him that something dark and evil was lurking around him.

"Looks like you can use some medical attention, Chris." Wesker dug into his pocket and pulled out a can of First Aid Spray. To Chris, it probably seemed like a gesture of kindness, but Wesker knew better. He wanted to keep the S.T.A.R.S. member alive for his own cruel purposes, his own cruel enjoyment. "I'm no medic like Ms. Chambers, but this will have to do. Roll up your sleeves," Wesker instructed, his voice deep and commanding, truly befitting for the captain of S.T.A.R.S.

Chris obliged and rolled up his sleeves slowly, feeling a bit awkward and uncomfortable, though he couldn't explain why. He had no trouble with letting the kind Rebecca treat his wounds, fully knowing that he was in good hands with her nurturing spirit. Why couldn't he have the same faith in Wesker? He was his leader and captain after all. Chris tried to shake off the daunting feeling. Perhaps the entire night was just getting to him. He already discovered that two of the members from the Bravo team were dead, and he had no idea where the remaining Alpha team members were. When he tried to go back to Jill, Barry, and Wesker after his brief investigation in the dining hall, he found himself distracted by those death walkers. Intrigued and suspicious, he followed one of the monsters to another hall instead of reporting back. Bad choice. Somehow, he managed to get himself locked in at a long corridor, which forced him to search for another route that led to the main vestibule. He was in the middle of doing that until he was 'knocked out,' according to Wesker. By who or what, he had no idea.

Wesker firmly held Chris's arm with one hand as he sprayed the wounds with the other. Beneath his grasp, he could feel Chris's arms tensing as the liquid met his skin. "I know it stings, but suck it up, Redfield," Wesker laughed, increasing the dosage of the spray on his skin for fun, enjoying the sight of discomfort on Chris's face.

Chris put on his best game face and quietly sucked in a deep breath, holding it until there was no more of that burning liquid within the can. He really preferred the much gentler mixed herbs, which gave off the same effect, but neither he nor Wesker had any left. "Thanks," he mumbled, his face slightly red from embarrassment. He had not meant to act like such a…for lack of a better word, sissy. Rolling his sleeves down, he stood up, preparing to walk to the door when Wesker extended a leg, forbidding him to pass.

"Where do you think you're going?" the captain asked sternly, not appreciating the fact that one of his inferiors was just going to wander about without _his _permission.

Chris's brows furrowed over his narrow eyes in confusion. Was there really a need to explain why he and Wesker should be moving? "We have to find the others! We have to see if they're okay. Jill, Barry, Rebecca…they need our help-"

"I think they'll be fine on their own," Wesker snickered, remembering his little conversation with Barry. It was always easier blackmailing the family man, and now, he didn't have to worry about Valentine anymore. _Barry should be keeping her under watchful surveillance. And as for you Chris, you're not going anywhere. Rebecca won't stand a chance in this mansion alone. No one will stop my plans. _

"What do you mean they'll be fine on their own!?" Chris felt his anger starting to rise. They were stuck in this nightmare, a nightmare that was beyond their imagination, and Wesker was telling him to back down? "We have to go help them NOW," Chris stated hotly, insisting on carrying out what he had planned to do—expose the nightmare, rescue any survivors, and get the hell out of here.

"Did you not hear what I said? That will not be necessary," Wesker replied calmly, his gazed trained intensely on the younger man. He dropped his leg to the ground and raised his arm. Before Chris could ask what he was doing, Wesker curled his palm around Chris's throat, his fingers tightening into a fist as he squeezed roughly.

"W-esker," Chris choked, his eyes watering from the lack of air passing through his lungs. "W-what are you-"

Wesker could see his knuckles whitening as he increased his pressure around Chris's throat. He let out a low growl, one that was laced with delight, before sending the man in his grasp flying against the wall behind him.

Chris let out a groan as his already bruised back slammed into the wall, his weak body slouching toward the ground. Unable to support his weight by standing, he gripped the frame of the cot in an attempt to pull himself up, his eyes fixed angrily toward Wesker, who approached him with slow and steady steps. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Wesker!?" Chris spat, his heart racing faster each time Wesker took a step closer, his mind unable to predict what was going to happen next. All he knew for certain was that his initial fear that someone within .R.S. could be a potential betrayer was true. Ever since he'd stepped into the mansion, he felt like he was being watched by an invisible set of eyes that were monitoring his moves and battles, and now, he couldn't be more certain that Wesker was behind everything. "You…you bastard…you were the one who knocked me out." The sudden realization hit him in full force, and as much as he hated to believe the fact, he couldn't deny it either. _That means…all those who have died…their deaths could have been prevented! _Chris's eyes widened, his body engulfed with an inferno of hatred he had never experienced before.

"You are certainly the bright one, Redfield." Wesker crouched on one knee, lowered his head until he was at eye level with the young S.T.A.R.S. member. He could see it in the younger man's eyes that he had discovered everything, but the unfortunate thing was that there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Wesker continued, "No one is getting out of here alive."

"Why Wesker?" Chris swallowed hard, though it did not quell his anger. If it were not for his low health, he would have long killed Wesker with his own hands. He had never thought ill of his leader, never had murderous intentions toward Wesker, but now…all the setups, all the deaths of his teammates, everything….Wesker was responsible for everything. Feeling his fury doubling, Chris reached into his holster and retrieved his handgun. To his dismay, Wesker was quicker. Before he could raise the gun, Wesker grabbed his wrist and twisted it painfully until the gun limply fell out of his hand. Emptying the magazine, Wesker tossed the useless weapon into the far corner. Chris's next idea was to grab his combat knife, but Wesker had foreseen that as well. With inhuman reflexes, the S.T.A.R.S. leader snatched the combat knife from Chris's vest pocket and held the cold metal surface against his throat.

"I'd be a good boy if I were you, Redfield," he threatened, his voice dripping with mockery. "Or else I'll go out there and kill all your precious friends right now…starting with Jill." Wesker knew Chris had a soft spot for the female Alpha team member. They had often been seen flirting with each at the Raccoon Police Department. It was sickening to Wesker's eyes and ears, but now he could finally use Jill's well being against Chris.

"You leave her out of this or I swear I'm going to-" That did it for Chris. Pushing himself forward, he thrust out a sore arm, but his fist never quite touched Wesker's jaw.

Wesker easily caught the fist in his palm. "I don't think you are in any position to call the shots here."

"I don't think you are either," Chris grunted, his fingers reaching for Wesker's collar. Finding a firm grip on it, Chris jerked it toward him, catching Wesker by surprise, causing him to roll forward on to his battered body. The knife flew out of Wesker's hand, and Chris quickly kicked it away before it could be used against him. Before Wesker could recover from the disorientation, Chris shot out a fist, striking it square between his leader's eyes, knocking off his black shades in the process.

"Ugh!" Wesker cried as he clasped a hand over his face, his fingers pushing roughly against his skin to place pressure on the pain in attempt to lessen the throbbing.

Chris took this opportunity to ease past Wesker, but after taking two steps, he found his feet lifted off the floor for a single second before he was flung onto the cot. The weight of his body colliding against the limp mattress sent the empty can of the First Aid Spray bouncing off the cot, its fall and rolls echoing loudly throughout the hollow cell. Wesker managed to recover quicker than Chris expected, and now, he was standing above him, one hand holding on to his shades that was somehow still intact. As he adjusted his black glasses over his eyes, he lifted one foot and slammed it down hard against Chris's chest, restricting the man beneath him to only slight maneuvers.

"Ha! You sure are persistent, but you will never be a match for me, Chris. Don't you ever forget that." Wesker's voice rang confidently throughout the cell. He bent his body, lowered his face until it was only a few inches apart from the struggling man's. Catching both of Chris's arms, Wesker pinned them down against either side of his head. He wanted to make his threats as clear as day, once and for all. "You try something like that again and I WILL kill all your friends."

Chris could see the muscles in Wesker's face hardening, his lips drawing together in a solid line, could feel Wesker's warm breath against his sweaty face. He wanted to scream, to wipe that cocky, dominant expression off his face, but for the sake of his friends, especially Jill, he couldn't. It took almost every ounce of energy in his body to force himself to calm down, fearing that if his anger were to explode again, Wesker would truly carry out his threats, and he couldn't risk that.

"Good, now that you've come to your senses, enjoy your stay here. I'm sure someone will eventually come get you." After another crush, Wesker pulled his foot back and made his way toward the door, knowing very well that Chris would be placate this time. _You'll be getting a nice visit from the Tyrant shortly. _

After Wesker stepped out of the cell, he secured the door tightly into its latch. _Chris can bang and kick on the door all he wants, but without these…he'll be getting nowhere. _Wesker reached into his pocket and found his set of MO disks. He'd reset the levers outside on his way out. Now that he'd managed to get one of Alpha's best and brightest members out of the way, there was one less pest to worry about.

"You won't get away with this Wesker!" Chris shouted, his voice carrying through the empty, long corridor as Wesker ascended the stairs, preparing to reconfigure the levers.

"I already have, Chris," Wesker laughed.

-Fin

A/N: After playing ReMake, I was wondering how Chris ended up in the cell room (during Jill's playthrough) so I decided to write my own fic about it. I guess the only person who could have done so was Wesker since Chris said he already knows that Wesker was behind everything when Jill rescues him. I was originally in the mood to do some slight yaoi, but I decided not to in the end. Well, I guess if you really look into it, you can find some subtle hints here and there. ^_^

Thanks for reading and please review with your thoughts, comments, anything!


End file.
